A/N: So yeah about that whole waiting to finish the Hurricane and the Thunderstorm before starting this one? Meh. I've been itching to post this for days so here it is! I think it'll be a nice little shift in story telling in terms of Alternate universes of the Naruto-fandom and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I had writing it ^_^ I'm actually half way through chapter one and will probably post it up this weekend. So without further ado... "The Burning Leaf."
*Standard Disclaimer applies.
There was someone in his room. He could feel their presence even as they moved silently about. Drawers shuffled open and closed before he heard a whispered voice.
"Sasuke, get up."
He relaxed and sat up slowly, bewilderment showing plainly on his little face.
"Nii-san?" he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, no longer afraid of an intruder, "nii-san what are you doing in my room, what time is it?"
He yawned sleepily, a slight pout on his face.
Itachi was filling a small pack, his pack Sasuke noted, the one that he took to school, for training. Sasuke absently noted the fact that his brother was dressed in his Anbu uniform as though ready for a mission and he scrunched up his face and rolled over to back his brother. If Itachi needed to borrow his bag, he didn't need to wake him up to do it, and he told him so.
He tried to make himself comfortable in bed again, closing his eyes tiredly.
"Get dressed." The command was followed by what Sasuke assumed was his clothes tossed on his head.
Sasuke groaned and buried himself deeper under his blanket.
"Sasuke." Itachi's voice was low but demanding; enough to make his little brother sit up and face him again.
"Get dressed."
Itachi pulled the bag he was apparently filling with Sasuke's clothes onto his back.
"Now."
A dangerous aura filled the room as Itachi stood waiting and Sasuke got slowly and very reluctantly out of bed.
Sasuke couldn't hide the confusion wrinkling his brow, "Nii-san…"
An explosion sounded in the distance, lighting the horizon faintly outside the small boy's window.
"Dammit," Itachi cursed under his breath, "We have to go."
Sasuke stood staring out the window in shock, "What was -"
"Sasuke." Itachi insisted.
The younger boy felt the urgency in his brother's words and hurriedly threw on his clothing, dressing faster as another explosion sounded, closer this time, shaking the house. Screams accompanied the next exploding sound and Sasuke looked fearfully up at his brother.
"Nii-san what's going on?" Itachi's face was emotionless and unreadable and Sasuke knew that whatever was happening wasn't good.
The elder of the Uchiha boys threw open the window and held out his hand for his brother to take as they heard movement inside their own house, footsteps running quickly in their direction.
Sasuke struggled to suppress his fear. If Konoha was being invaded, then surely this meant that the enemy was already in their house. Sasuke unconsciously took a step back, closer to the protective figure of his brother.
"Sasuke!" The voice that called from the hallway was pained, panicked, and familiar.
"Mother?" Sasuke made to head back to the door, toward the voice of his mother, but Itachi's grasp was pulling him backward and toward the window.
"We have to go."
"But, nii-san…" He was really confused now.
Itachi tugged harder, and Sasuke struggled against the vice like grip.
"Why won't you let me go! Mother!" he called out desperately. Another explosion sounded and this time, the outside of their house was alight with flames. Itachi's expression darkened and he looked down patiently. It would be bothersome if Sasuke kept resisting.
The door flew open, showing a panting, disheveled Mikoto, looking wildly around the room. A myriad of expressions crossed her face at what she saw, Itachi grasping Sasuke's hand tightly as the small boy struggled against his grip; Itachi with one leg on the window sill, in the midst of disappearing out the window.
Itachi read the emotions that played across her face with agonizing ease. The worry turned into relief, then realization at what he was about to do, and she couldn't keep the fear from her eyes.
"Itachi don't," her voice was pleading and she took a careful step forward, wringing her hands, trying not to make any sudden movements. Fearing if she even breathed they would both disappear.
The screams grew louder and the explosions more frequent, but no one moved in the room. Even Sasuke had stopped struggling and simply looked back and forth between them.
"Don't take him."
There was a long pause, and the noises outside grew steadily louder.
"Take me where?" It was spoken so softly, as though he was afraid to hear the answer.
Both heads looked down at him, their silent battle interrupted and Sasuke felt himself weightless as he was carefully tossed over his brother's shoulder before he leapt from the window's ledge. His mother's frantic gasp was a ghost of a whisper and he saw her quickly retreating outline appear in his bedroom window moments before it disappeared from his sight.
Tears began to form in his eyes, "Nii-san, I don't understand."
Another explosion sounded, a large one that set the darkness ablaze, and Sasuke could see with horror that the entire Uchiha compound was on fire, the place where he knew their house to be was in flames, but still his brother sped on.
"Mother!" He struggled against him. If Itachi wouldn't go back to help then he would, "No we have to go back!" He kicked and screamed. "Mother!"
"Sasuke," his brother's voice filled the night and it stilled his struggles, "we can't go back."
"No, we have to!" Tears ran freely from his eyes, "we have to…we have to help everyone."
"We can't, Sasuke."
There was a painful pressure on his neck and the blurred image of Konoha on fire was the last thing he saw before unconsciousness swallowed him up.
He stood gallantly, though he was seeping blood everywhere, and willed his legs not to give out from under him. He chose to lean heavily on his trusty staff, instead of collapsing forward on his face, there was no place for hesitation and weakness now. The battle had been a bitter one, a struggle which he wished he'd never had to fight. If only he could have gotten all of them to see reason, to convince them in some way, but maybe it was all an inevitability.
He found himself falling forward as his staff transformed into his natural primate form, catching him frantically before he hit the ground. He was sure the monkey was speaking to him, but all he could hear from his bleeding ears was the roaring blaze.
The city was burning, he could see the flames through his blood blurred vision, and his tears mixed with the red flood on his face.
"Enma, help me stand," he swayed heavily on his feet as the monkey supported him waiting on a chance to use his last resort.
His would be killer, stepped forward out of the swirling smoke, favouring his left leg, and clutching at the gaping hole in his abdomen. The other figures that moved to encircle him, did not go un-noticed and it was all he could do not to slump a little lower on Enma's shoulder in exhaustion.
"It didn't have to come to this you know," he felt his battle companion clutch him tighter, as he began to gather the last of his chakra, his hands flying through the seals with inhuman speed.
"Shiki Fuujin."
The old man felt his chakra drain from him, heard Enma's muttered disbelief as the swirling tattooed marks of the forbidden seal appeared on his stomach.
An apparition formed behind him in an invisible swirl of energy and malice, before it took its heinous form, a death god, pale and patiently waiting to devour and condemn whatever soul he was summoned for.
His opponent stopped in his tracks, red eyes fixed on the place where the Shinigami now hovered, and for a split second fear crossed his face.
The words that followed next rang out into the night, even above the roar of the flames. The older warrior's heart sank, how could those red eyes see, even death before it came?
"Kill him! Don't let him complete that technique!"
The sound of blades being drawn came from all around him, and he knew it was futile even as Enma transformed in an effort to shield him from his imminent end. He closed his eyes.
Farewell old friend.
The pain didn't hurt as much as he thought it would, but he supposed that was probably because he could no longer feel the rest of his body. He took note of the fact that Enma was no longer with him, and that he was now somehow lying on the scorched earth, the image of the death god wavering before his eyes. His adversary, the man with the red eyes, limped closer to stand over him.
"I hope, you find everything you were looking for… Fuugaku," blood spluttered from his lips, his breaths came in wet and raspy convulsions before his eyes slowly lowered, the long shreds of his head band flowing on the wind.
The wind stilled for a moment as the shadowy figures, that had watched the battle from the perimeter with recording eyes, drew closer and a small crowd filled with red gazes looked on at the dying virtuoso. Some with reverence and others with a little bit of contempt, as the flames of the city raged on in intensity.
"He was our last line of resistance, Sir." Someone off to the left announced.
"We've… won," came another disbelieving voice.
"Yes," Fuugaku agreed, finally allowing himself to collapse backward, as his clans men scrambled to support him and tend to his oozing wounds, "the village is ours."